


Wandering limbs

by rawthorne (noisette)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Character of Color, F/M, Motorcycles, POV Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-03
Updated: 2012-05-03
Packaged: 2017-11-04 18:37:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noisette/pseuds/rawthorne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Got a better idea. How about you give me your sister for the night and I give you my answer in the morning?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wandering limbs

**Author's Note:**

> Modern retelling of the Drogo/Daenerys first meeting(s). Gender roles and social mores have been updated accordingly.

Lounging in the La-Z-Boy recliner across from her brother, Dany had a feeling that the man was watching her. She sensed his eyes on her back as she fetched beer and emptied ashtrays, as she moved around the tiny apartment like a surrogate housemaid the likes of which Viserys insisted they’d once had. She felt the questions that churned in that dark, appraising glance when she went to return to her seat by her brother’s side. Discomfort gained ground, reminding her that she was the only woman in the room. She’d missed a great part of the exchange between the two men already, but as soon as Viserys noticed her dawdling, he slapped her knee ever so quickly. “Don’t you have dishes to do?” His smile was all porcelain white teeth and forked tongue. 

Dany pressed her lips together tightly. She wanted to know if these people were going to help; the future concerned her as much as Viserys. But short, bitten nails dug into her denim-clad thigh and she knew this wouldn’t be the day she stood up to her brother. 

“So,” Viserys beamed as she stood from the couch, “do we have a deal?” Perched with elbows on his knees and that shit-eating grin on his face, he seemed certain he’d made a good pitch. He never doubted himself, or feared he’d overstepped his mark. Not even these burly bikers could shatter his pride. The silver spoon dangled from his chapped lips thirteen years on, living a life of poverty and humiliation. 

Over her shoulder, Dany chanced a look at the latest in a long line of thugs her brother hoped could make them rich again. She found _him_ looking back, a smile curling the edges of his full mouth. “Way I look at it, kid… this ain’t much of a deal you’re proposin’. Sound more like charity. Say I get you the men you need, and the guns, and we make a hell of a lot of trouble on your daddy’s competitors. What’s in it for me?”

“Money. Power.” Viserys gestured with his palms. “Drogo, as I said—”

“Got some of that on you, do you? Could’ve fooled me, what with all this luxury accommodation…” His black eyes slid to the peeling paint, the wild flowers wilting in a chipped wine bottle that Dany had turned into a makeshift vase. He didn’t seem impressed with her efforts to transform this shithole into something approaching home and he didn’t hide it. _Well, fuck you, too,_ she thought. When he saw her at the sink, fingers dripping with suds and her lips pursed into a white line of displeasure, his mustachioed smirk only deepened. It wasn’t an encouraging sort of look. “Got a better idea. How about you give me your sister for the night and I give you my answer in the morning?”

The plate Dany had been scrubbing dropped into the sink with a loud clang. It might as well have been her heart plummeting to the grimy floor beneath her flip flops. She couldn’t hold back an incredulous sound—nor, much to her shame and horror, could she stop herself glancing to her brother for support: whatever Viserys’s faults and whatever he might think about her meddling in serious business when she was just a girl, barely out of school and obviously stupid by virtue of being born with a vagina, he wouldn’t stand for that kind of talk. _The nerve this asshole has!_ As if she was a piece of property to be handed back and forth. Viserys, she reassured herself, would never agree. He wasn’t the kindest of brothers, but he’d had a rough childhood and he’d been the one to raise her and keep her safe and fed all these years. He wouldn’t just—

“Done.” Her brother’s voice stayed perfectly even. “She’s untouched, you know.”

Dany paled. If not for blood and kin and all the bullshit she’d swallowed about their birthright, she might have grabbed one of the knives off the pantry and skewered her brother where he sat. She was tempted. Over his shoulder, her wide eyes met a cruel grin. It was always going to come to this eventually, seeing as they were living at the very bottom of the pile, but Dany had never expected to be sold off by her own brother. Most girls she knew ended up doing it for drugs or liquor, or because their boyfriends had debts to pay. The street corners were full of skin trade after a certain hour of the night. She could tell Viserys and his guests were all waiting for her to burst into tears, the better to show how nervous and virginal she was. It was the same look crocodiles wore on Animal Planet, in documentaries showcasing the viciousness of the animal kingdom. (Bared fangs and fearsome growls were really nothing to the world of men.)

Protests and pleas stacked up in Dany’s throat, choking her. She couldn’t get them out. Thirteen years of following her brother’s lead in all things had left her mute. But she could still slap the washcloth into the sink, soapy water sluicing over the metal edges and down the edge of the counter like foamy tears. Viserys could wash his own damn dishes tonight. Her flip flops slapped the tile as she picked up pleated purse and cardigan. The men in the door must have been taller by a foot, but their taunts and jeers left her unimpressed. She’d heard worse in schoolyards. 

“Looks like someone’s eager,” roared their leader. He stood without shaking Viserys’ hand. “Good enough for me.”

Courage left her as they marched from the derelict corridor down stairs littered with needles and condoms and into the cool evening. Dany shivered. She’d folded her arms over her chest, determined not to let herself be intimidated by the motorcycles or the burly men straddling them, but only seemed to heighten the sound of her jackrabbiting heartbeat. She could see now that there were many more than the half dozen who’d accompanied the black-eyed man up into the apartment. Catcalls rolled off her back until an actual hand was laid there, flat to the center of her spine, and she whirled around, house keys clutched in her fist as some ersatz deterrent. 

Drogo smirked. “Easy, kitten. You’ll hurt someone.” For a man who’d just bought a piece of virgin ass for the evening, he seemed remarkably cavalier. Perhaps, Dany mused, he figured he could take her even struggling. Perhaps he liked that. Bile rose to her mouth, nerve flagging. “Put this on,” Drogo said, handing her a helmet. “Shoulda worn better shoes, girl. Ever rode one of these before?” He pointed to one of the bikes, a monstrous Harley with vaguely tribal symbols and what looked like a headcount airbrushed on the side side. Dany shook her head. The helmet flattened her hair, but it also proved heavier than she’d anticipated. Her head felt as though stuck inside a fishbowl. “You’ll want to hold on. Swing your leg over--” Steadying the bike with one hand, Drogo arranged her in place and directed her feet to the pegs that wouldn’t heat up while the bike was in motion. “Keep ‘em there until I turn the engine off, got it?”

Dany did as told, shifting her purse so it was strapped across her chest and her meager belongings nestled between her legs. She put the cardigan on after, sensing she might get chilly, sure she wouldn’t want anyone touching her bare skin. Who knew what kind of diseases these people carried. _I’ve been passed to a man who wants to rape me and I’m worried about catching cold._ It was, Dany felt, an entirely valid concern, if a little OCD. The house keys went into the purse, as useless to her now as crying for help. 

As the others claimed their bikes and engines rumbled to life, Dany pitched her gaze up to the single widow where she hoped Viserys would be standing to watch her go—ideally with tears in his moist eyes and remorse choking sob after pathetic sob from his cigarette-stained mouth. There was no one there, only the shifting light of the TV screen. Not a moment too soon, a broad shoulder filled Dany’ vision, leather smooth and warm under her hands as she reached forward to grab hold of her driver’s waist. Wouldn’t want to slide off; she might miss out on the evening’s entertainment. 

_I_ am _the evening’s entertainment,_ she thought, wishing she could do Hollywood actresses one better and barf on command. 

*

“Something to drink?” The question was deceptively soft, a false promise of gentle treatment that Dany knew full well was not on the menu. She shook her head. “Not even water?” She shook her head again, expecting him to press or scowl, like Viserys would. Maybe even tell her she’d regret it later. The bed dipped as Drogo sat down beside her. “You okay, girl? No need to be so tense.”

His broad hands seized her shoulders and Dany, despite her attempts to keep calm and not scream, bit her lip to smother a whimper. She didn’t want to be here, in his bedroom, people boozing and laughing downstairs, their bawdy jokes filtering through the open window. It was all too much. She felt scared and sick to the stomach, but it was her syncopated breaths that eventually gave her away. Drogo stilled.

“Hey. Look at me…” Fingers knotted in her hair, stroking instead of pulling. When she wouldn’t turn around, they drifted to her cheek. This time, Dany obeyed, a little afraid of what he’d do when he saw that she was blinking back tears. “I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

Dany believed that about as much as she believed in Santa Claus. 

“You want me to leave you alone for a bit? There’s beer downstairs, I got plenty to do…”

She shook her head, convinced he would only come back later, drunk and probably angry because she’d deprived him for another couple of hours. With a clumsy hand, Dany reached for her cardigan. She was going to do this, think herself away and get home. And that would be it. Her chin trembled. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He might even let her shower, after. 

“Hey, hang on.” Hands seized her own and brought them down to her lap. “What’re you doin’ there, darlin’?” Did he want to be the one to undress her? Or was he one of those guys who got off on ripping a woman’s clothes off because they’d seen so much porn they didn’t realize someone had to stitch those buttons back on? Dany stared at him, feeling lost and, inexplicably, annoyed. His rough face reminded her of pro wrestlers or convicts in movies she only watched when there was nothing else on. Two bushy brows and a goatee, his long hair done up in a dreads, he looked more like a surfer in disguise than a two-bit felon trying to make a killing off, well, killing. 

A heavily tattooed surfer on steroids.

Dany figured she must have appeared as bizarre to him. With her strange, so blonde-it-seemed-prematurely-white hair, she often mused that she must have looked like a female Benjamin Button. The granny underthings and lint-riddled cardigan weren’t helping things, either, not that she had any desire to appeal to this man. Or be naked with him. Or care if they made a good-looking pair. It wasn’t like she had plans to have his babies or anything.

“How do you want me?” The words were clipped, short, her throat bruised from swallowing so much crap over the years. Mostly, she felt tired.

His thick eyebrows arched and, very slowly, Drogo released his hold on her wrists. “You wannna fuck?” He seemed surprised. Was it a game? Did he expect her to lie and stroke his ego?

Dany shook her head ‘no’. Those five words she’d said were all the bravery she could manage for the moment. 

He didn’t seem impressed. “Yeah, didn’t think so… Kind of a dick, that brother of yours. Sly, too. I figured you could tell me more about what he’s up to. If he keeps his word, for one thing… if he’ll pay up after he gets his fortune back. I don’t like getting short-changed and frankly, you seem like you’re the closest thing he’s got to a confidante and look at you now. Doesn’t exactly speak in favor, you bein’ here.”

 _Oh._ “I don’t know anything,” temporized Dany. “He’s—he doesn’t tell me anything.”

Shoulders lifted in a shrug. “You got ears. I saw you looking tonight. You were payin’ attention.” If that was a compliment, it was followed by a chuckle too loud for Dany to be sure. Her companion could just as easily be mocking her. She decided that was the likelier option. “Listen, I ain’t askin’ you to betray his trust or somethin’, and I ain’t gonna beat you bloody if you don’t wanna talk. But I ain’t convinced that boy knows his elbow from his ass and if I’m gonna put my people’s lives in his hands, I need more than promises.” The mattress squeaked as he rose, bumping Dany up a fraction of an inch. “Think about it. I’m gonna get somethin’ to drink. There’s a fire escape out the bathroom window, if you think you’re about ready to go.”

It was probably a taunt. Dany squared her jaw. It had to be a taunt. 

“Bring me a Coke?” Her hands fisted in the navy duvet. Somewhere at the back of her mind, she felt her better judgment up and abandon ship. 

It turned out surprise was a good look on Drogo. So was grinning. 

* 

Dany propped her hands on the windowsill. She’d locked herself in the bathroom only seconds after she’d been left alone in the bedroom and she had no idea how much time had passed since. Her heart was pounding, sure that Drogo would be back to knock down the door and yet by the same token keen to be proven wrong. She’d let the water run in the sink while she fussed with the window, as if that might cover up the sound. It didn’t seem to serve much purpose—maybe he’d have a heftier bill to pay because of her, if a man like Drogo even paid his utilities. Dany couldn’t imagine it. There wasn’t a domestic bone in his body. 

Crisp evening air blew in, making her shiver. Even the ignition fumes and distant noise of traffic felt cleansing from this perch. Below, the metal catwalk dipped into a ladder and then another and off into a back alley. Dany had a rough idea of where she found herself in the city and knew she’d be able to get a train home if she left now. 

Reason said to cut her loses and get out. She’d get a motel room with whatever cash she had on her and be back home tomorrow morning, after Viserys left for work. He’d never know she didn’t stay with Drogo unless the gang boss told him. Somehow, she didn’t think he would. If he was messing with her head, she’d be the one to pay the price. 

A soft rapping on the door shook Dany from her thoughts. “Hey, girl, still in there? I need to take a leak.” Dany gulped. He’d actually knocked. “Girl? Hello?”

Dany started toward the windowsill, determined to pass one leg out and then the other. It would be easier after that, just run to the nearest subway stop. Look for people, scream if he came after her, even though she sensed he wouldn’t bother. His voice rang out from beyond the flimsy wooden door again. _Shit._

There wasn’t an ounce of self-preservation in her blood. Clearly. Why else turn the lock and wait to see if he was going to burst through to beat her silly? _Maybe to prove he’s not going to_.

“Trying to see how long I can hold it?” he growled when, at long last, Dany stepped out. He brushed past her with a muttered curse, slamming the door in her face. It should have been threatening. It was; Dany was pretty sure he’d just called her a bitch. But the unmistakable sound of piss hitting the ceramic bowl echoed a few seconds later, accompanied by a low, grateful sigh, and Dany couldn’t help herself. She laughed. She started with chuckle, which became a guffaw, which soon became hysterical.

Here was a man who’d probably killed cops and gang bangers and done horrible things to girls just like her, and he turned out to be as pathetically human as the rest of them. Even if he stepped out to whack her with his belt, she didn’t think she’d ever manage to see him as the threatening badass again. The Coke can on the bedside table slowly but steadily dimmed her mirth.

“You okay?” Drogo caught her wiping tears from her eyes. “Want me to go away again? There’s no TV up here, but I think I got a radio…”

Dany shook her head. She seemed to be telling him ‘no’ all too often tonight. And he was letting her. “I’m sorry I almost made you piss yourself.” However hard she tried to bite her lips between her teeth, a smile still peeked through. 

“Should be. Thought my bladder was gon’ burst. You’re pretty weird, you know that?” His moustache twitched when he smiled. “What’s your name, anyway? Your brother never said.”

“Dany. Daenerys, actually, but you know… I got enough of being teased in school, so Dany’s good for now.”

It didn’t surprise her Viserys had kept such trivia for himself; why should he think a man like Drogo might give a damn, even if Big, Bold & Muscle-y wanted to bang his virgin sister? He could call her Pam or Crystal, or some other cool name.

“Dany,” he repeated, as if tasting the word. She found she liked how it sounded, balanced there on the tip of his tongue, and a flare of heat rose to her cheeks as she fiddled with the Coke can. He seemed to like it, too, because he smiled. “Well, I’m Drogo. But you already knew that.” He sat on the bed and Dany, too uncertain about her place in this bizarre equation, followed suit, leaning her back against the headboard. She kicked off her flip flops with a self-conscious smack of rubber against bare cement, aware that she hadn’t shaved her legs in some time. If he minded, he could always throw her out. “It’s just as well you didn’t take off…” Drogo pointed to her purse on the side table. “You’re pretty lousy at this running away stuff, aren’t you?”

The way he said it made it seem like a question, but it wasn’t. Dany knew she practically screamed _obedience_. Standing up for herself just wasn’t in her repertoire. “Never done it before,” she admitted. “Never had a reason to. No one to run from.” If his searching eyes seemed to beg to differ, she didn’t acknowledge it. “Besides, how do you know I was even thinking about running? Maybe I just needed some fresh air.” Behind the can of soda, a smile made her eyes crinkle and her voice turn high and breathy—madness or was she flirting?

“You won’t be getting much of that here. Dumpsters and cat piss all over that alley.” Drogo slid back onto his elbows, dreadlocks brushing the duvet. “It’s only the view that makes it worthwhile.”

Instinctively, Dany pulled her legs up a little higher, although almost immediately she found herself wondering what it might feel like to touch his hair. It was a particularly treacherous thought, best concealed with a burp as the fizzy Coke rose up in her throat. Drogo didn’t even bat an eye at her unladylike gesture. He didn’t seem like the sort of guy who’d put a lot of stock on that. _What does he like?_ Dany found herself wondering. The women who hung around bikers were always bossy and brazen. A few had bikes of their own. They unsettled Dany as much as their male counterparts and she tended to change sidewalks if a cluster was darkening the entrance to a bar on her way home. Was that the kind of woman Drogo found attractive? And why did Dany even care?

“You’re thinking real hard about somethin’. I was only sayin’. About the runnin’ away… no need to make a face.”

“I’m not a making a face.” Dany flushed. Her wandering thoughts had long veered off into dangerous territory, fugitive dreams no longer half as appealing as the inside of this lonely apartment, bare floors with no rugs and a wide bed so near to the ground the walls seemed to rise as tall as mountains on either side. “You live by yourself?”

“Do I got a girl, you mean?” Drogo smiled.

“Or a boy.” It was Dany’s turn to smirk. “I don’t judge.”

“Soda makes you bold, girl.” He rolled his shoulders, muscles twitching under a black tank top. He looked better without the leather jacket. More man, less dodgy biker. “Nah,” he answered after a few seconds. “No one steady.” He hadn’t flown off the rails when she’d inferred he might be gay and he didn’t deny it vehemently now, either. Dany toasted him without saying why and took another swig of Coke.

“My brother is for real,” she said, mostly to fill the silence, then because—because Drogo had asked. “He’s—ambitious and arrogant, but he means what he says and he has a good claim. I’ll tell you what you want to know, if you’ll take my word for it.” The likelihood of being taken seriously by someone like him seemed so improbable that Dany half expected to be greeted with a ‘gotcha’ laugh. But just in case Drogo wasn’t going to mock her, she told herself she wanted this man on their side. He wasn’t reckless. He didn’t go around telling her to keep her mouth shut. 

And when he looked at her, Dany felt something warm stir in her belly. At the ripe age of twenty-one, she knew full well what yearning felt like. It thrummed within her when his muscles corded as he propped himself against the mattress.

Drogo sat up slowly. “Go on.”

*

“I feel bad putting you out of your bed.”

“You should,” Drogo grunted as he pried a blanket from the closet. “TV’s in the front room, I get to watch reruns all night.” He winked at her on his way out, sleep pants low on his hips and t-shirt thrown on backwards after his shower. Dany hadn’t said anything about it because it seemed like it might not be her place, but she couldn’t help a smile. “Go to sleep, pretty girl. Door locks from your side, just... you know.” He waved a hand, dragging one of the pillows from the bed behind him like he was a little boy with a teddy bear.

Alone in his bedroom, Dany flopped back onto the sheets. She was still wearing her jeans and cardigan, having refused his offer of a t-shirt to sleep in. Without the light from the front room, she found herself in semi-darkness, blue shadows scrolling over the ceiling every time a car passed by outside. Dany glanced at the electronic clock on the bedside table. It was a cheap model, the kind that chews batteries out like popcorn. The display read eleven past eleven. Four ones in a row. Was that supposed to be some kind of sign? Beside it, the Coke can fizzled in silence.

Dany tugged the duvet up to her shoulders, determined to sleep. She was exhausted: a ten hour shift at the hardware store and then the evening with her brother and his new pals weighed heavy on her shoulders. And she so didn’t want to stay up thinking about the man in the other room, with his smoldering dark eyes and ridiculously white teeth. And his gravelly voice. 

And his laugh. 

Restless, Dany shifted to her back. She could smell him on the sheets, a clean musky scent, like leather and shampoo, and she could feel him in the cheap furniture stacked around her. Two shelves with books and CDs, perfectly straight, like the bold line of his shoulders. A small dresser and a closet beside it, probably containing nothing but leather and denim. There was no mirror in here, so Dany imagined him in the bathroom, surrounded by steam as he pinned back his dreadlocks. Maybe with a towel wrapped around his waist. She swallowed. One of her hands had found its way to her belly and was drifting perilously close to her waistband. Dany stilled, suddenly unsure. 

What did she know about this guy? Sure, he was sexy in an alpha dog sort of way, but touching herself in his bed was a little—much. She should stop. She should really stop. 

Her stomach hollowed as she lowered the zipper on her baggy jeans. His fingers would be bigger than hers, so she used three to brush across her sex. He wouldn’t be surprised to find her wet already; he’d grin, flattered, and call her eager. Maybe he’d be rough. Say she had no shame and spread her legs for her with his big hands. Call her a slut. Dany smothered a moan into his pillow. She felt wanton just thinking about it and slipping her hand down to palm her mound as she did so was almost too much. Would he know what to do? He seemed so sure, so confident; he must’ve had dozens of women before her. _He won’t have you,_ Dany told herself as she folded her legs to trap her hand in place, torn between wanting to stop and wanting to go all the way. _He won’t have you at all if you just stay in here._

In the darkness of the room, her eyes snapped open. She could hear her heart pounding, its echo like the ricochet of a bullet. Adrenaline made the impossible seem strangely attainable. In the other room, the faint hum of the television treaded upon her courage. Drogo was still awake, probably twisted up on the couch, his eyelids drooping. He’d be as tired as she felt, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be up for it. 

Dany’s feet found the cool cement floor and stumbled over her overturned flip flops. Her small toe hit the side of the bed and she yelped with the sudden flare of pain. It wasn’t very smooth, but she tried not to let that stop her. With a hand on the doorknob, she considered doing up her jeans. There didn’t seem to be much point in that; he’d see and he’d know—and that would make things easier. 

The bedroom door opened with a tell-tell creak and Dany found herself standing in the half light, waiting for him to sit up. She could see the crown of his head and the soft rise and fall of his chest where he lay on the couch, legs awkwardly resting against the backrest. The blanket tented on his knees but left most of his right side bare. Blue light from the TV spilled over him in flashes. 

His t-shirt was still on backwards.

“Drogo?” Her voice was soft. Hopefully sexy. He didn’t turn. She tried again, louder this time. “ _Drogo._ ”

He mumbled something incoherent, head lolling to one side as Dany neared the couch. His eyes were closed already, his breaths slow and regular. There was a softness to his features that made Dany want to reach out and touch him. So she did. His exhale fanned her cheek as she pulled back. Seen so close, his eyes weren’t black at all, but a warm sort of hazel. And they were watching her.

It hadn’t been much of a kiss, but Dany wasn’t ashamed. It was something she’d wanted to do and she’d done it. She was ready for him to call her out. A smile tugged at her lips, not nearly a smirk but still as courageous and brazen as the catcalls of the women in his gang. “You should come to bed,” she said, watching his eyes slid down her body. He’d stopped abruptly at her open fly, mouth moving with no words coming out. The power trip was undeniably heady, like standing on the cliff top and preparing to plunge into a fifty foot drop. 

She knew there was nothing but foam and sea beneath; the jagged rocks didn’t scare her anymore. Drogo’s hands at her hips were a welcome pressure and when he bid her, she stepped out of her jeans and underwear feeling like a nymph or ballerina. She imagined herself more graceful than she was, because his gaze fanned the liquid flames roiling in her belly. He didn’t seem to notice her unvarnished toes or the hiccupping breaths she took when his fingers palmed her ass. They hadn’t even kissed properly and yet here she stood, half naked in front of a man twice her age, as he drank her. Two could play this game. 

Still on her feet, Dany gripped his dreads with both hands and tilted his head up. He tasted of alcohol and smoke, of dark things and promises unspoken, but he submitted to the kiss without fighting her. For a moment, at least. It felt as though his whole body was tightly wound, a panther waiting to lunge after its prey. _And guess who I am,_ Dany thought dimly as she sucked his tongue into her mouth, trying to coax him into action. A soft tendril of fear bloomed in her heart only to succumb to the flare of desire she felt for this man. His eyes were hooded when she pulled back. Dangerous. Dany felt herself grow wet as his rough hands skimmed her flanks, pushing up shirt and cardigan in one fell swoop. He wanted her naked. Dany understood this on an instinctive, base level, her reptilian brain agreeing as she quickly shucked off the rest of her clothes. This _was_ what she’d been brought here for: because Drogo wanted her, even if he didn’t dare take what wasn’t offered. Even if he’d done it to impress his coterie of equally rough friends. His eyes had watched her hungrily all night, surveying her every move and Dany didn’t want to be the porcelain doll he took from Viserys just to make a point. She needed more from him than that.

“Now you,” she murmured. “I want—I want to see you.” Nerves paled against the sudden heat thrumming in her veins. 

Going to bed, apparently, was a foregone conclusion. Saying nothing, Drogo pried off his t-shirt and tossed it aside. He bared himself and the plethora of tattoos on his arms and chest with ease, apparently content to take his cues from Dany. His eyes occasionally drifted to the glistening wetness on the inside of her thighs and it occurred to Dany that he could smell her arousal from where he sat; that he knew just how much she wanted him. And still he stayed hesitant, perhaps trying not to scare her. 

“I’m not a virgin,” she lied. It was a gamble, an assumption without foundation. 

“Your brother said…”

“I don’t tell my brother everything. Especially about this.” 

When she felt herself being tugged into his arms, Dany knew she’d done the right thing by fibbing. It wasn’t even a big lie; she’d had her fingers inside herself plenty of times, how much worse could it be? Drogo’s kisses didn’t give her time to wonder. He seemed intent on stealing what breath was left in her lungs as he pulled her to him, his furry chest pressed against her naked breasts and his fingers warm and rough at her hips. “Put your legs around me,” he growled. 

Dany felt her knees go weak. Her arms coiled around his neck, but he took her weight easily, supporting her with hands under her ass, dipping into the cleft -- _“Oh fuck…”_ She buried her face against the crook of his neck. No one had touched her like that before and his fingers were as broad and calloused as she’d anticipated. Maybe not as gentle. He pinched her cheeks and she rolled her hips into the touch, half to get away, half because it felt strangely good. It was a turn-on to feel him walking with her coiled around him, as if she wasn’t heavy at all and he could do this all day. When she felt the mattress against her back, her whole body arched, seeking his heat. 

“Hold on.” His voice washed over her in the darkness of the room. “Just gonna turn on the light.” 

It was a sweet idea, for all that it cost her his kiss for a few breathless moments. Dany craned her neck, scalp stinging for the hair she’d trapped under her body when lying down, and nuzzled his chest with her lips. She wanted to taste his skin, so she did, licking a wet path to his nipple and listening to him moan above her. Light flooded the room and Dany could suddenly see the tan skin under her hands and mouth, dark hair soft to rub your cheek against and his broad hips spreading her open where she was naked and he wasn’t. Not yet. Dany fell back against the pillows, breathing hard. Lungful after lungful left her feeling lightheaded and unprepared for the delicious friction of denim against her sex. It wasn’t enough, but it was good for now. It was enough for her to press down on the backs of his thighs with her heels, trying to direct him where it felt best. 

She hadn’t expected him to be so quiet, this big, broad bully who rode a motorcycle and kept a coterie of unsavory friends, but he barely uttered a word. Dany had to strain to hear his moans, her own silence gaining until she understood: he was being quiet for her. So he could hear _her_. 

“Drogo… please.” His tongue lashed her breasts, first one and the other, until Dany couldn’t stop the squirming of her lower body against the sheets if she’d wanted to. “Want to see you,” she choked. “Want you—“ _Inside me._ It felt dirty to say, like something out of a bad porno, but what the hell? Tomorrow she would be back to ten hour shifts and Viserys and delusions of grandeur and dishes and laundry and—she wanted this just for herself. 

Drogo slid back on his haunches. It was her turn to follow him with her eyes, surprised that she could lie there, sprawled and naked and feel like he was the one exposed. Her hand slid between her legs, stroking at her clit as she watched him unzip his fly. She had felt him against her before, all hard cock and strong thighs, but actually seeing the tapered V of his waist and the dark curls at the apex of his thighs was something else altogether. His length was stiff against his belly, far thicker than her fingers and easily twice as long. This worried her for a fraction of a second. 

“Yes?” he breathed. “No?”

She wasn’t sure what he was asking. _That’s not a question,_ she wanted to protest, all full of sanctimonious wit, but the moment didn’t call for petulance. She nodded. “Yes.“ 

Her hand was tentative as she reached for his cock. She could almost join her middle finger with her thumb in circling the crown, but the lower she went and the harder it was to manage. It excited her to think of him filling her up, of being her first man. 

“I have a condom in my purse…”

Drogo’s smile had been absent too long, she realized, watching his concentration break into a grin. “Regular Girl Scout, huh?” He kissed her mouth, her cheek, before shifting off of her a little to grab a foil packet from the end table. It wasn’t a brand she recognized. “I’m allergic to latex,” Drogo explained, almost sheepishly, as if admitting weakness made him less of a man. Dany watched him tear the foil off with his teeth, just like she’d read about in novels her brother didn’t know she’d borrowed from the library, and sunk back into the sheets. Her fingers stayed put between her legs, winding her tighter and tighter, occasionally dipping inside in what Dany hoped would be useful prep. 

“Nervous?” Drogo settled beside her, his capped cock in hand. Did he guess she’d lied about the virgin tihng? 

Dany shook her head. “No, just… impatient.” She knew this was supposed to hurt and she was worried that there would be blood on his sheets once they were finished. Didn’t seem hygienic. Or sexy. But neither was masturbating when a man like Drogo was raring to blow her mind. “I’ll stop.”

“Why?” Drogo caught her hand and returned it to her cunt. “This is hot. Go for it.” He moved closer, his warm body bracketing hers all along her side, and his fingers caressed her belly, her side, the curve of her shoulder. “Love to see a woman come.” His breath fanned over her cheek and Dany turned her head to capture his lips, kissing him hard and desperate, wanting to possess as much as be possessed by him. 

He freed her mouth when she began gulping for breath, something like fascination in his eyes as he watched her. “That’s it. That’s right…” And suddenly, his fingers were there, with hers, plunging into her as her hips began to twitch and roll against the bed, against what became the sum total of their joint efforts. Dany bent her head forward, back curving as she struggled to hold on. Pleasure rippled through her, all-consuming, rising from her insides and spreading, it felt, all the way to her fingertips. 

She might have shouted. Or made an embarrassing sound. But Drogo was kissing her hair, his fingers helping her ride out the last of the aftershocks, and Dany couldn’t bring herself to care. Her heartbeat thundered in her chest. It felt divine. It was exhausting. 

“Good one?” Drogo murmured gently. 

“Very.” Dany shifted her wet hand to his elbow. “Do you want to…?” She could feel his cock still hard against her thigh. Her body was so pliant, so relaxed that it forgot to tighten in anxiety. 

Drogo nodded and shifted to lie between her thighs. He seemed so much bigger when he rolled on top of her. Dany wondered if he could crush her with his weight. Probably not. And given the way he’d pinned himself up on his hands, as if preparing to do push-ups, he seemed to be worried about the same thing. Against all Cosmo advice, Dany laughed. “A bit far, don’t you think?” Who was this confident sex kitten and where were the fears everyone insisted should have plagued her mind? 

And where did she find the courage to take his cock in her hand, to look at him as he twitched and hardened at her touch? Dany couldn’t say. She angled his length against her cunt herself, enjoying the pleasant tremors that arced through her when he slid and glided against her clit a couple of times. 

She was prepared for pain, for the stretch and burn of three fingers when her body only seemed made to accommodate two. She wasn’t prepared for the intense fullness that came with him entering her inch by precious inch, syncopated breaths taking the shape of her name as he sunk into her arms and body. The sensation was unlike anything she’d anticipated. Drogo muttered something about her being tight, so tight, that he couldn’t believe this was happening, but Dany drowned him out, brushing her fingers through his dreads as he pumped his hips forward until he was all the way inside her. 

There was a stubborn little ache where he stretched her to the limit of what she felt she could take and the burn echoed in her moans. His eyes observed her as he lifted his head. “First time?”

“Yeah.” To hell with lying. “Sorry.”

Drogo cupped her cheek. “Gets better.” 

_Corny, but true._ Dany put her legs around him. She didn’t have to tell him to move, he did it on his own, humming breaths and endearments against her ear, soft words that meant nothing except _I’m close_ and _you feel good_ and _fuck, I’m coming._ The last was more of a plea and Dany tightened around him because she could, because he deserved to feel good, too. His release found him with a series of arrhythmic thrusts and a slack-jawed gasp, shoulders giving out as he fell onto her. 

Dany gasped too, her lungs protesting, but that answered her question; having his body blanket hers didn’t crush her, didn’t even hurt. And when he shifted off her, his cock glistening with her wetness, she followed, eager for his warmth. The same soft look she’d glimpsed while he was sleeping smoothed his features after his climax. Emboldened, Dany placed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. She’d never done that before. Or slept with a man. Or plucked the condom from his spent cock and disposed of it in the trashcan she found in the bathroom. 

When she came back to bed, aching in exquisite ways deep within, it pleased her to find him stretched out on the sheets, exactly as she’d left him. He stirred a little as the mattress dipped under her weight, eyes fluttering open. “Hush. I’m okay. Go to sleep.” She shut off the lights for him and folded her unshaven legs under her as she settled to watch him until his breaths evened out in sleep. It didn’t take long. He’d already been half-asleep when she’d woken him up before, but it pleased her to think she had tired him out. It pleased her even more to pluck her clothes off the floor where they’d landed and dress herself, surreptitiously, in the dark. She padded barefoot into the living room to retrieve underwear and ratty jeans and shut off the TV, all as quiet as she could make herself be. Back in the bedroom, she found pen and paper on one of the bookshelves and, by the light of the moon and the stars, scrawled: 

_You will help us. A deal’s a deal. And I want to see you again._ She didn’t sign her name. He’d know who it was from. 

The bathroom window was still open as Dany made her way out into the alley below, with flip flops in one hand and pleated purse in the other. The night turned the whole business of running away into something exciting now that she had someone she wanted to chase her.


End file.
